The Last Wilder

by Janis Reams Hudson

  After the meal, and the never-ending kitchen cleanup, the men went back out to work, and Lisa and Laurie took their babies home to tend to their own chores. Belinda, too, had work to do, on her computer in the office she’d made for herself upstairs. Stacey used the quiet time for a brief nap, to make up for the sleep she had so gladly missed the night before.

  She told herself all day not to expect Dane to come for her that night. It was a long drive to Colorado and back, and he would need time to question the man they had in custody. No matter how badly she wanted him to return, she didn’t want him driving while exhausted. He hadn’t gotten any more sleep last night than she had.

  So as the afternoon faded, and the boys came home, Ace called it a day and supper was served. There was no sign of Dane, no word from him, and Stacey told herself that was to be expected. He would come for her, but not today. Maybe tomorrow. Surely tomorrow.

  She was limping around fairly well without her crutches after supper. Her ankle was finally healing. She would be able to drive by tomorrow.

  Oh, God, she wished she hadn’t thought of that. The idea of going home to her lonely apartment, once her most longed-for goal, was now the last thing she wanted. But Dane had never mentioned a future for them. Never mentioned that he was interested in seeing more of her after the case was solved.

  Then again, she told herself, neither had she. Why was it his responsibility? She could let him know she was interested without expecting him to make the first move, couldn’t she?

  She wouldn’t let herself speculate on how they could possibly maintain a long-distance relationship, if that was what they wanted. Would such a thing even work? How could it last? Then again, she thought, if her parents had lived several hundred miles apart, they might have had a much better marriage.

  But she didn’t know if Dane even wanted a relationship, long-distance or otherwise. The only way to find out would be to ask him. And if he didn’t…if he didn’t want anything more from her than what they’d already shared, she didn’t know what she would do. Maybe murder him, she thought.

  She would just have to do her best to make sure he wanted what she wanted. As soon as she figured out exactly what that was.

  At eight o’clock, when Stacey was in the kitchen pouring herself another cup of coffee, headlights shot twin beams of light through the window over the sink as a vehicle turned to park near the back door.

  Was it…? Could it be…?

  She was afraid to hope. But who else would come way out here at this time of night?

  Setting down her mug on the counter, she rushed to the back door, ignoring the twinge in her ankle, and peered out.

  “Dane,” she breathed. He had come.

  He climbed out of his Blazer and started up the walk, his eyes locked on her. He looked tired, she thought. All those hours on the road, and whatever he’d had to do in Colorado concerning the case, on top of so little sleep. She supposed she should feel guilty for that, but she didn’t.

  She stood at the back door, her heart thundering. Tired or not, he looked so incredibly good to her. She only wished she knew what he was thinking. Did he still want her, or had she been a one-night fancy for him?

  No, she refused to believe that. And when he got closer, so that the porch light struck his face, she could see the intensity in his eyes and she knew.

  “Dane,” she whispered.

  He came up the steps and nearly tore the door off its hinges before stepping into the mudroom and wrapping his arms around her. Without a word, he took her mouth with his and nearly swallowed her whole. She gave him everything his kiss demanded, and made a few demands of her own.

  Had it been only a day since she’d last tasted him, felt his arms hard around her crushing her to his chest? It seemed as if it had been months. But he was here now, and kissing her as if he, too, had felt the same loss at their brief separation.

  When he came up for air, they were both gasping.

  “Isn’t it sweet?”

  Startled by Belinda’s voice, Stacey whirled to find her and Ace grinning at them again from the kitchen doorway.

  “Should I get a bucket of cold water to throw on them?” Ace asked.

  Stacey blushed. Dane, obviously undaunted, hung up his coat then slipped an arm around her waist. “Not if you want to find out what happened today.”

  Ace called Jack and Trey on the phone and told them Dane was back with news, but Dane couldn’t wait. He wasted neither time nor words in relating what had happened in Colorado. He was obliged to tell Ace what was going on, but he wanted to get Stacey to himself so badly that, for all he knew, he could be leaving out big chunks of information.

  He knew he hit the high points, though. The man arrested in Colorado for possession of stolen cattle decided to spill his guts. He named names, gave dates, number of head stolen from which ranch. There were cattle from Utah, Idaho, Wyoming and Colorado, all on their way to a packing plant—once their brands were doctored—where an inspector was being paid to look the other way. The latter was for the feds to deal with.

  But the Colorado man didn’t hesitate to name Ed Wilson and Farley James as two of his suppliers. He volunteered their names, then picked them out of a photo lineup without a blink. Dane had his sworn statement, plus Stacey’s, ready to back up a warrant for their arrest. If they showed their faces in Wyatt County again, they were his.

  Ace was more than pleased with the news. He wanted Dane to wait around for Jack and Trey to get there so he could tell them, too, but Dane declined. As much pleasure as he took in the company of his three half brothers and their families, just then he wanted nothing more than to load Stacey into his Blazer and go home.

  Which was exactly what he did, just as Jack and Trey arrived.

  The three Wilder brothers stood in the doorway looking down the gravel road that led to the highway, much as Stacey had done that morning, at the disappearing taillights of Dane’s Blazer.

  Trey scratched his chin and held up a five-dollar bill. “I give them two miles.”

  “No way,” Ace said. “You didn’t see the way he greeted her.”

  “Liplocked her, did he?” Jack asked.

  Ace chuckled. “Like a starving man at a feast.”

  “In that case, I say they won’t make it more than one mile before he pulls over and does it again.” Jack handed over his five.

  “I’m in for a half mile,” Ace said.

  “If you win,” Trey said, “it’ll be because you had a firsthand look at them together.”

  “So did you, yesterday,” Ace said.

  “Yeah, but that was yesterday.”

  “Looks like Ace won,” Jack said lazily as the taillights brightened with the addition of brake lights and the Blazer stopped at a point that the brothers knew was about a half mile from the house.

  The five-dollar bills made their way happily into Ace’s pocket. Ace looked out toward the tiny red lights a half mile away and smiled. “Good for you, Dane. You deserve a good woman, and I think you’ve found one.”

  “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask,” Trey said.

  “What’s that?” Jack asked.

  “What do you suppose that look on Dane’s face meant when Laurie told that story about thinking he was another of our brothers?”

  Ace draped an arm over each brother’s shoulder. “You know, I’ve been wondering about that myself.”

  “Come on,” Jack said. “We’ve all been wondering a little about him since he first showed up in town.”

  Trey frowned. “Even Rachel says when you put him in a room with the rest of us, a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell which one wasn’t a Wilder.”

  Jack eyed them both. “You know, don’t you, that he was born in Cheyenne, two months after I was.”

  Ace narrowed his eyes. “Now why,” he said with a shake of his head, “does that not surprise me.”

  “His mother was a waitress, same as mine. Except she worked in a restaurant instead of a bar.”


  “How do you know all this?” Trey demanded.

  “I use my ears for something other than to keep my hat from sliding down over my eyes.”

  “Now, boys,” Ace said with mock sternness.

  Jack and Trey eyed their older brother with feigned malice. “You want first crack,” Trey said, “or can I have it?”

  From the doorway, Belinda propped her hands on her hips. “If there’s any cracking going on around here, I’m the one who’s going to do it. How far did they get before he stopped to jump her bones? It was hot enough around those two to melt concrete. Who won the bet?”

  Ace beamed. “I did. A half mile.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  When Dane and Stacey drove away from the ranch headquarters down the gravel road that led back to the two-lane highway, neither spoke. The tension inside the Blazer was a living thing, taking up the space between them, the air around them. Dane drove as far as he could before slamming on the brakes and unfastening his seat belt as he reached for her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said harshly. “But I’ve been thinking about this all day.” And he kissed her.

  Stacey melted against him. “Me, too,” she whispered between hot, fevered kisses as they practically devoured each other.

  “It’s crazy.” He kissed her jaw.

  “I know.” She kissed his eyelid.

  His lips trailed down her throat. “Missing someone so damn much in just one day.”

  She arched her neck to give him better access. “I know.”

  His mouth traveled back up to hers. Their lips meshed, their tongues mated, and his hand reached beneath her coat to cup her breast.

  His name came from her lips on a sigh and a moan.

  Dane knew he was losing his self-control. He forced a quick laugh. “Look at us. We’re in an official county vehicle, and I’m about ready to rip your clothes off and have my wicked way with you.”

  “Wicked?” She ran her fingers through his hair. “Promise?”

  He kissed her again, and what started out hard and hungry ended up soft and sweet. “Let’s go home,” he whispered against her lips.

  “Yes.” She nipped his bottom lip with her teeth. “Let’s.”

  After one more kiss, then another, Dane finally turned to the steering wheel, buckled his seat belt and put the unit in gear.

  They were another mile down the road when Dane’s cell phone chirped. It was Ace, thanking him for stopping when he did to kiss Stacey, thereby winning Ace the bet.

  “You jackass,” Dane said with a laugh. “I’ll get all of you for this.”

  They were ten miles north of the ranch cutoff on the highway when Dane spotted a van with its emergency flashers on parked at the side of the road ahead.

  “Looks like somebody’s having trouble,” Dane said. He slowed and pulled over behind them.

  Stacey’s heart warmed. He wasn’t even on duty, but he would stop. He was the type of person to help his fellow man whenever he could.

  But she supposed his police and sheriff training was so ingrained that he automatically reached for his radio and called it in before he got out of the truck. “Sit tight,” he said to her. “I shouldn’t be long.”

  Another sign that his training was ingrained was that when he stepped outside, his coat unbuttoned, he automatically reached toward the small of his back to check his weapon. He probably did it unconsciously.

  He was a good man. A genuinely good man. She was going to do everything in her power to hang on to him for as long as possible.

  While she watched, he approached the driver’s side of the van. From her position in the passenger’s seat she had to lean left to be able to see him. As she did, her arm brushed the cell phone he’d tossed aside after getting the call from Ace.

  Stacey grinned. They’d been taking bets, had they? She picked up the cell phone and pressed the recall button. Ace answered on the third ring.

  “You made bets on us?” she said, laughter in her voice. “You should be ashamed.”

  “Not me,” he protested.

  “What do you mean, not you? You won the bet, from what I heard.”

  “I meant I shouldn’t be ashamed,” Ace said.

  Stacey laughed. “Dane stopped to help someone in a van, so while he’s out of the truck I just wanted to call and give you a hard time.”

  “Now who should be ashamed?” he said.

  But Stacey was no longer listening. She had glanced up at Dane. He was backing away from the van with his hands in the air.

  Ace was still talking in her ear, but she had no idea what he was saying.

  Three men poured out of the van on the driver’s side, all of them pointing guns at Dane.

  “Ace,” she cried into the phone. “Oh, my God, Ace, they’ve got guns.”

  “What? Who!”

  “I don’t know, I can’t see their faces—no, wait, it’s them! It’s those two men who stole your cattle, I’m sure of it, and they’re forcing Dane back to the truck at gunpoint. They’re headed this way! What do I do?”

  She should have used the radio and called Dane’s office, Stacey thought, her mind running in terrified circles. But there was no time now, they would see her. They could probably see her using the phone. Oh, God!

  At the other end of the cellular signal Ace Wilder was already on the move. He and his brothers had been in his office when Stacey called his cell phone. He snapped his fingers at Jack and Trey and pointed toward the gun cabinet.

  “Stay calm, Stacey. You said there are three of them. Just do whatever they say, okay? Don’t try anything. We’re on our way. If you can let me know what’s going on without them realizing you’re on the phone, great. Otherwise, don’t try it. Okay?”

  “O-okay. Here they are.”

  Stacey’s mouth was suddenly so dry she was surprised she could speak. Quickly she placed the cell phone beside her on the seat. Unless they looked closely or made her get out, no one would be able to see it. She hoped.

  One of the men, the one she didn’t recognize, turned away and ran back to the van. The other two held Dane beside the Blazer for a minute. They were talking, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying over the sound of the truck’s engine, which Dane had left running, and the blast of the heater. Then one of them got into the back seat, his handgun trained on Dane every second.

  The second man ordered Dane to get in beside the first one. When Dane ducked to climb in, his eyes met hers. She read the look in them easily. He was furious, and he was afraid—for her. And he was trying to tell her everything would be all right.

  When he was inside, the second man slammed the door and got into the driver’s seat. He eyed Stacey up and down with a sickening grin.

  “You’re keepin’ mighty pretty company these days, Sheriff.” He spat the word sheriff out as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. This one, Stacey thought, was Farley James. She remembered his name from Dane’s office. He was the one Dane had stopped the other night for having no taillights.

  “Of course,” James went on, “she’s got a big mouth on her, and I don’t much like that.”

  “If she was the only witness against you,” Dane said lazily, “I can’t say I’d blame you. But Farley, I’ll tell you, you need to pick a better class of men to do business with.”

  “What are you runnin’ off at the mouth about?” the one in the back seat, Ed Wilson, demanded.

  Dane chuckled.

  How could he be so cool and relaxed, while Stacey wanted to scream in terror? She had to slow her breathing. Act calm, like Dane. She couldn’t panic. Couldn’t curl up into a fetal ball and suck her thumb, which was what she most wanted to do at that moment, and stay that way until this nightmare was over.

  “I’m talking about that fellow in Colorado,” Dane said. “Hansen.”

  Wilson and James both snarled like a couple of pit bulls.

  “What’s that old cliché?” Dane asked. “Oh, yeah. He squealed like a stuck pig. Names, dates, number of head, the works. He k
ept real good records, too, all written down in a ledger.”

  “I told you we shouldn’t have gone with him,” Wilson growled from the back seat.

  “Shut up.” James put the truck in gear and made a U-turn, taking them back south, in the direction of the Flying Ace.

  “Why are we turning around?” Stacey hoped her voice was loud enough to be picked up and transmitted by the cell phone at her side. “Town is back the other way.”

  In the seat next to her, James sneered. “We ain’t going to town, little girl.”

  Stacey didn’t know what to do but to keep talking, maybe distract them. She didn’t like the way that Wilson man in the back kept aiming his gun at Dane.

  “But we have to go back to town,” she said, trying to sound both reasonable and a little flighty. “I have a dinner appointment.”

  “Whoo-ee, did you hear that, Ed?” James called over his shoulder. “She’s got a dinner appointment. Well, sister, you’re just going to have to miss that there dinner appointment.”

  Stacey heaved a big, dramatic sigh. “I suppose you’re right, if you won’t take us to town. But that nice judge is going to think I stood him up.”

  In the back seat Ed Wilson sputtered. “You were gonna eat with Judge Martin?”

  When he spoke, Stacey twisted around to look at him. “Do you have to wave that thing around?” She managed to sound both annoyed and worried. “Somebody could get hurt.”

  “What, this?” He held the gun up and pointed it at the roof. “That’s what it’s for is to hurt somebody.”

  Through the back window Stacey saw the van following them. “Look,” she said loudly. “It’s that van you were in. Why is it following us? Where are you taking us?”

  James snarled. “You’re just full of questions, aren’t you? If you’d minded your own business and kept your mouth shut, you wouldn’t be in this mess now.”

  “Minded my own business?” she cried. “I was minding my own business. It was you and your friends who messed things up for me. Thanks to you, I’ve been knocked down a ravine, ended up on crutches, and stuck here in this Podunk little town for days.”